


Boneless

by bellonia



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellonia/pseuds/bellonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Massage themed kmeme fill</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boneless

Fenris couldn't lift his arm.

He couldn't lift his arm and the abomination was looking at him expectantly.

"I don't bite," Anders told him, quite impatiently. Fenris doubted that.

"Just. Fix it," he gritted out between his teeth. "It will do no good if I cannot answer when Hawke calls."

"Then lay down on the table and I'll fix it. I won't even use magic. It defeats the purpose if you're still wearing your armor." Fenris had laid on the healer's table, fully clothed.

"What do you intend, then?"

"I have to touch-" Fenris tensed, which caused another spasm in his back and up his shoulder. He bit off a grunt. "It's probably tension," Anders continued, "And if I'm not using magic to fix it, then I have to touch you. Or I could ask Hawke... I... know that you're more comfortable with her touch." He sought malice in the mage's words, something that implied he knew what wounds he was poking. Even he couldn't find it there, instead he heard honesty. He didn't trust that, either. Honesty could be as much a weapon as a carefully wielded lie.

Gauntlets, pauldrons, breastplate, even down to the tight pants he typically wore, leaving him in just his smalls. He threw himself onto the table, trying to ignore how and why he was this close to naked in front of a mage... this mage.

Anders shuffled for a moment, hunting for something in the small back room he slept in (when he slept). Often Fenris would come with Hawke or Varric at absurd hours of night and find him dosing in the open cot or writing his damned manifesto.

He was about to stand up and leave and see if the pain stopped when Anders came back holding a blanket... that had apparently been cleaned with magic. "It... gets cold in here," he explained, almost sheepishly, but he gestured him to lay back down again. "And I needed to find," he held up a small bottle of oil sheepishly. 

Still suspicious, Fenris laid back on the table, letting Anders drape the blanket over his legs - loose, so he would be able to escape if needed without being trapped. He found that he did appreciate it and wondered how much of it was intentional.

It took a moment for Anders' hands to actually touch him as if he was seeking the right angle, the right way to keep from scaring Fenris, the right way to prevent a hand from entering his chest and removing his heart. Anders was pretty attached to his heart, after all. It was inside his chest and everything.

The touch started with fingertips - so light Fenris wondered if he'd imagined them, but then it eased into the weight of just Anders' hands, warm and calloused against his skin. He tried to tense against it but something about Anders' touch refused to let him.

There was a soft hiss from Anders as he found the knot, explored where it began and ended, but he didn't scold Fenris as much as he wanted to. How had he been able to move since this tension had started, he wondered? 

The warm hands that Fenris tried to ignore belonged to the mage, the abomination worked slowly. He felt the tension in his back fade as though a lock had been undone.

He didn't think anyone had ever done this for him, not with as... few visible strings for it. He started to tense again, afraid of what the mage would demand of him for this. 

"Don't undo my hard work or I'll have to keep doing this!"

"Mmphm," he half growled but he forced himself to relax using breathing exercises he'd learned from the Fog Warriors.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Anders grumbled but he kept working his hands over his back, digging into the tissue and easing the tension out. 

He didn't comment when the grumbling and growling had stopped and been replaced by moans. He had to admit, actually, that when Fenris' hips started to rock and grind slowly, that his continuing had increasingly less to do with being a healer and more to do with seeing where this would end. He worked the tension out of the back of his neck with steady movements, enjoying the smooth feel of Fenris' skin under his hands, even the breaks in it left by the lyrium.

Down his back, to the small of his back earned a slight arch and a grunt. Sliding his thumbs down his spine received a sharply inhaled breath followed by a moan. But mostly, there was this spot, where two lines of lyrium met and when Anders touched it, Fenris' entire body shuddered and melted.

The mage's hands... were soothing. Warm. They took the aches he didn't know he had and replaced them with this boneless feeling. He didn't know he could have tension that went so far down his arms, but now he did and oh it felt good to lose it. When Anders began to do something to his hand, he just let out a low moan. He was rocking against the table and hoping the blanket would hide it. The actions were repeated on the other arm. But what surprised him in a passive, distant sort of way was the light brushes of Anders' fingers, over his shoulders, soothing over his neck a last time and into his hair. It felt so strange but so good that he tried to grumble but the sound didn't mean anything.

An accidental brush of Anders' fingers against his ear made his hips jerk. "Guh," he shuddered.

When he did it again, Fenris knew that his secret was out, but the long stroke of Anders' finger against his ear made him wonder why that was a bad thing after all. It was when Anders rubbed the tip of his ear between two fingers that he gasped and shuddered, coming. 

"This never happened."

"Something happened here? Nope. I'm... I'll let you leave." Fenris avoided his gaze but caught the flush high in his cheeks.


End file.
